Fairly Odd Life
by dionysianDaydream
Summary: A spin on the Fairly Oddparents lore. When our lead pink hatted ball of frustration finds out that the neighbor girl might be in danger, he and his new friends have to unite and venture into a bizarre magical plane in order to do something about it. Oh, and Vicky may or may not be a literal Witch.


The new neighborhood stank. Like, literally smelled like piss, as we pulled into the driveway of my new crib. Our house was better looking than the others along the lane, but in all fairness that's probably just because it was the only one not currently being lived in by pill poppers or serial killers.

Mom got out and immediately went to unpack stuff from the trunk.

"It's not so bad," she mumbled, nervously chomping down on her cigarette like my cousin's pitbull Macy did on the leg of some guy in a Garfield mask when he broke in one night and tried to steal their flatscreen, as I stood by and watched her pull out one of the moving boxes.

It looked like one of the boxes was giving her trouble, so of course, as usual, she took it out on me!

"Why don't you go on and say hello to some of the neighbors. Maybe you'll meet a pretty girl!."

Not gonna lie-I got pretty steamed. Girls are a sore subject with me and mom _knows_ it.

"I don't want a pretty girl," I shrieked. "I want an Xbox!"

She laughed, but I was serious. Last I checked, an Xbox doesn't go out and talk shit to all her friends about you even after you've done been to second base.

By the way, FUCK YOU Casey, in case you ever read this.

"Just scream if anyone tries to molest you," my mom said as I walked to the edge of the driveway, in her typical nonchalant way of joking about seriously serious things that seriously pisses me off.

"I won't."

Anyway, as I turned back to the street, I saw a perfect representation of what I was feeling just then. The fly-infested, sorry remains of a road kill possum, turned on its back with its mouth hanging open like a jock from my old school that was gonna laugh after calling me a fag, but kept choking on his own laughter.

"Stupid gay possum," I said, stashed my cold hands in my jeans pockets (it was like 30 degrees out, besides I look cool so don't hate) and carried on along the sidewalk.

I don't always do what my mom says, but I have to admit part of me was a little curious since I'd never met a drug addict in person before. Unless cigarettes and beer count?

So anyway, I knocked on the screen door of the first neighbor's house, which funnily enough still had halloween decorations out in the front yard in January just passed, and waited.

First, I heard some cranky bitch yell "fucking Adventists" inside, which I gotta be honest scared the piss out of me. A while after, I heard some locks being undone and a girl around my age peeked out at me.

"Oh," she said. "You're not...one of them?"

I blinked. Seemed like kind of a weird thing to say. (In case you're wondering, I go on R/Atheist AND watch Rick and Morty, so NO I don't believe in some old creepy old guy in the clouds.)

"I'm Timmy. We just moved in next door, and thought I'd see what's up..."

I craned my neck to try and see into the room, but it was too damn dark. As for the girl herself, I couldn't make out much of her either except that she had dark hair, glasses, and I guess kind of a cute face, not counting all the freckles.

She must not have liked that I was tryna spy, 'cuz right after that she slammed the door in my face.

"Fuck you too, then," I said. I was so angry that I picked up one of the cheap plastic Jack-o-Lanterns they had planted around in the yard and took off with it. Like an absolute G!

My mom was sitting on a lawn chair on the front porch eating a microwave burrito when I got back.

"How'd it go?"

"Bad," I said, then bolted upstairs to my room.

None of my stuff was unpacked, so I just put my earphones in and started listening to Guns and Roses on my Android, because all my current generation's music SUCKS. Beyonce? Sucks. Lil Wayne? Sucks. Daft Punk? They're okay. But everything else SUCKS.

"My LIFE sucks."

I plopped down on my bed and hid my face in the pillow. Also, I cried. I just missed our old place, and all my friends at my old school.

I missed my dad, too. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the magic 8-ball that he dug out of our old house's garage one day and gave to me, sitting on top of one of the opened moving boxes right next to my favorite pink fedora with the little window where it gives you a response facing me.

When I squinted to get a better look it actually said, and I kid you not: "outlook not so good,' but I was just too depressed and tired to do a fricken' thing about it.


End file.
